Reincarnate
by Sapphira T
Summary: Centuries have passed since the famed Inseparables and their fifth member died in battle, but now, they're back. OC character as one of the main, don't like don't read. Don't read this one, pretty pretty please. I'm only keeping it up on the off chance that someone liked it. I overextended waaaaay too much on this one, so just go back and read the actual fifth story.
1. Chapter 1

**This fic is the fifth in a series, starting with All for One, then One for All, then Scarlet Letter, then The Clock Strikes, and finally this one. I reccomend reading the previous two before tackling this one, otherwise you won't know who Rogue is.**

 _A battlefield, France:_

Treville, captain of The King's Musketeers, limped through a bloody battlefield, searching for his men. His brave, loyal men that died for France. He had already seen so many die, held them too, but he was hoping he would not have to inform any more families that someone wouldn't be coming home.

He came upon a small dip in the valley, and looked down into the large grassy slope. The birds had begun to sing again now that the battle had died for now, and the sun shone down on the valley, chasing away the storm clouds that had been there hours previous.

There was a small group of people beneath him, and he recognized five. And with that five, his heart broke.

He drew in a heavy sigh and signaled to the men behind him, so they could come and collect those brave people.

He staggered into the dip and studied the scene in front of him.

Athos, brave leader and loyal friend, was laying on the ground, facing the sky, with a bloody hole in his stomach, a pool of blood beneath him.

D'artagnan, passionate friend and loyal to a fault, was next to him, folded over his legs slightly, as if he was attempting to protect his mentor.

Porthos, the gentle giant, was slumped against a large rock, bloody smile on his face, eyes closed never to open again, and he cradled Aramis in his lap.

Aramis, sharp shooter and kind healer, had blood covering his torso, his rifle across his knees. He leaned against Porthos, one hand curled around the big man's hand, and the other seeming to reach for something.

That something proved to be Rogue.

Rogue, who was still breathing.

Treville hastened forward when he saw her kneeling on the ground, sword held limply in her hand as she pointed it towards a dead enemy.

He collapsed on his knees in front of her, grabbing her shoulder.

Her hat had vanished somewhere, her hair a tangled and slightly bloody mess. A cut ran down the side of her face, and dull blue eyes stared at him through the dirt and battle haze.

She was covered in blood, and Treville knew not whether it was her own or that of her enemies.

Her fierce black blade was stained to the hilt in blood, and so was her bare hand. On her hand he could faintly see the curved silver lines of an old injury caused by a whip. She had earned it standing between Aramis and someone who wished him harm.

Over the four years she had been with them, she had proved herself time and time again that she was a damn good friend, affectionate and loyal, and she had given Treville many a heart attack and grey hairs when she jumped in the line of fire. He knew she'd rather die than let someone get hurt.

Treville thought back to that morning, when the new day had dawned bright and eager, right before the battle began.

He had ordered his five best to stay together, and to protect one another. He had received affirmations from all of them, but Rogue had given him a cheeky grin, blue eyes alight with fire and good humor, and asked if she should send her boys back with pink bows.

That seemed like a life time ago. And his memory of Rogue did not fit the dead eyed one he saw before him.

"Rogue?" He asked, voice cracking. One hand went up to cradle the uninjured side of her face, and she jumped slightly at the contact.

Her eyes flooded with recognition, "Ca…ptain." She greeted, voice thin and weak. Nothing like her normal boisterous and musical voice that Treville had become accustomed to over the years.

As he looked her over quickly, any hope he had that she'd live diminished. The injuries he could see were dire, but even if they weren't, he'd no doubt by the lack of fire in her blue eyes that she didn't want to live. It looked wrong on her, Treville was used to her being on death's door yet still having that fire. But in those times, she had always had the other four still living and encouraging her to do the same.

There wasn't any of that now. Treville wasn't certain he completely wanted Rogue to go on without her four friends, and it was only his selfishness that wanted at least one of his five best to survive.

Any fool could see she was in pain, and further inspection of her proved to show shrapnel. Probably from one of her bombs that had torn through enemy lines.

From what Treville could see, her legs were cut and bleeding out. If she lived, she probably wouldn't be able to walk. It was amazing that she was still kneeling now, despite the battle having ended an hour ago.

"Yes, Rogue." Treville confirmed, and adamantly refused to register the fact that his voice wobbled.

She gave him a broken smile, "Tried to…. Put pink... bows on them…. Sir…. They didn't…. like that idea….." Then her face fell, her blue eyes becoming darker than Treville would have thought possible. "Tried to…. Save them…. Didn't work…. M sorry."

Treville gently pushed his fingers through her short hair, "You have nothing to be sorry about." He soothed. "You did all you could, I couldn't ask for more."

She tried to give him another smile, but he could see she was tired. "I ever tell you…. You were like a father to me?" Her voice was getting quieter the more she spoke, and Treville stubbornly held back tears.

"And you were a daughter to me." He said.

Another fractured smile was his reply. Then the fire he was used to seeing burned again in her eyes, if dull. "My… My sword." Blood coated her lips now, and Treville could hear her ragged breathing, see her chest stutter. The blue cross she couldn't be seen without was there, dangling and coated halfway in blood. "And my cross. Could you… save them… for me? Clean them…"

Her two most prized possession besides her friends and her horse.

"Of course." Treville replied easily.

She smiled, her eyes flicking upwards, fire dying again to an ember.

"The sky's pretty." She murmured, before she slumped forward, head pillowed on Treville's shoulder.

He felt her take one more shaky breath, before she joined the other four.

Treville heard more of his men coming down, so he gently set Rogue on the ground, her face upwards and facing the sky. He closed her dead blue eyes with shaky fingers, then staggered to his feet.

He gazed around the clearing, taking in the sight of his five best.

They lived together, laughed together, fought together, and died together.

Despite himself, a small smile grew on his face. Broken and wet, but a smile nonetheless.

Inseparables indeed.

He looked up at the sky. The storm clouds in the distance, lightning still racing through it, and at the setting sun that turned the sky a dark blue and purple.

It was very pretty.

M

It would be centuries later when they would be born again, and meet again. They wouldn't have their memories of the previous life until they met a blow much like the ones that killed them.

Athos and Treville found each other first; predictably the heart of war. Athos was a young General, and he had just received a blow to the stomach that would send him home for good. It was at that point when memories rushed back to him, memories of battles and a different century, of royals and nobles, and of four idiots he had been in charge of protecting.

His history had repeated itself, younger brother dying at the hands of psychotic lover, and while he laid in the medic tent, awaiting his discharge, he made a resolve to find his other brothers, and his sister. Even if they didn't remember him, he would find them.

As luck would have it, Treville found him first.

Treville died of old age, and had, in a strange twist of fate, been born with his memories.

He had hunted for the others, and had almost given up the chance that he wasn't alone. Until he heard of a young general named Athos.

He had already been stationed at the same post, but was close to retirement. This would be his last tour, and he just happened to stumble upon a drugged and in pain Athos.

That had started a quest to find the others. Treville had already been accepted into an agency started by their majesties, a recreation of the Musketeers long lost, as the Captain. Athos was later accepted as well, the moment he had recovered from his injury.

Athos had found Porthos in a bakery where he worked with his mother, who, in this new history, still lived. Though Porthos had no memory of Athos, they still became fast friends.

Then, after a particular nasty robbery gone wrong, and Porthos had gotten hit in the head, much like he had when he had died, he remembered. He spent nearly a week in the hospital, but he remembered.

With Athos and Treville helping him, he too became a Musketeer again.

Porthos in turn, found Aramis. A young doctor, one of the youngest in the business. Porthos had forced his way into Aramis' life by getting numerous injuries, insisting that Aramis helped him, then wrestling Aramis to coffee. There had been a betting pool that Porthos was flirting with Aramis for weeks.

Then Aramis got shot in hit and run, and nearly died because of it. However, he remembered everything.

Within a month, he had gotten a spot on the growing team on the Musketeers Agency. The Original Inseparables were back.

D'artagnan had stormed into the agency, calling for Athos' blood, much as he had the first time.

He had already joined the Agency when his memories were forcefully returned to him, and his piece fell into place.

Now they only lacked one member.

Who was already a part of a different agency.

Under the Horsemen Taskforce.

History does have a funny way of repeated, after all.

 **Hey guys! Sapphire here! You know, no matter how often I do that in my notes, it still sounds so cheesy.**

 **I know I've been gone for a while, and for that I apologize. Holidays and getting back into the swing of school was hectic and headache inducing, but I'm back now! So, I'm a little nervous putting this up, so tell me if you like the idea!**

 **ST**


	2. Chapter 2

I tilted my head, staring across the room at the two people who had been brought inside earlier. They were bickering, even though they were injured and tied to wooden chairs with a hanging light above them. They sounded oddly familiar, like I knew them.

"If you hadn't tripped and knocked over the bins, we wouldn't be here." That was a charmingly warm voice, and it was full of humor. For some reason, it made my heart skip slightly.

"Well if you hadn't tripped me with your leg, I wouldn't have hit the stupid bins." That voice was annoyed, and slightly exasperated. His voice was colored with pain, and from where I was tied, I could see the blood oozing out of his arm from a possible gun shot. When I looked at him, I got the same feeling in my chest that I did when I pulled off a very successful prank.

I sighed, both annoyed at their antics and somehow fond? but kept sawing through the ropes with the knife that had been previously hidden in my belt. Honestly, do they never check for hidden weapons anymore? I still had several in my boot, plus the one that had been tucked into a secret holster on my belt which was currently in my hand.

Then again, these were also the people who were fine stabbing me numerous times in my torso, cracking my ribs, and fracturing my collarbone but couldn't bring themselves to 'Dishonor my virtue' or something. Though, I wasn't entirely complaining. I could deal with my injuries.

Finally, with a snap, my wrists were free.

With that snap, the two men picked up their heads and squinted into the darkness where my chair sat.

I had already been questioned about some 'letter' or something, and I honestly had no clue what the heck this mysterious letter was. My ignorance and my smart mouth had led to me getting more injuries other than the minor concussion that was still throbbing in the back of my head.

"Hello? Is there someone else here?" The charming one asked.

When he picked up his head, I got a good look at him. He was ruggedly handsome, with dark brown hair that curled slightly around his charming face, brown eyes that were almost black, a neatly trimmed beard, and an angular face. He didn't look that much older than me, and there was a cunning sort of intelligence in his eyes. His face made my heart stutter, and I didn't really like the feeling.

The other one had also picked up his head, and he was handsome as well, but not so rugged. More of the innocent handsome than ruggedly handsome. He had longer hair than his companion, and it was curly as well. He had big brown eyes that were filled with pain and determination. Something impossibly fond crashed over me, and worry at the sight of him.

They were both well built, and I saw a badge on the charming ones belt. I pulled out my own badge from my boot, holding it in front me as I stepped forward.

They tensed when they saw me, looks in their eyes that I would almost called shock and recognition, but I held up my hand, well aware of the dagger that dangled between my fingers, "Easy. Easy. I'm an agent for Her Majesties Guardians, I'd toss you my badge, but you can't really catch it right now."

The charming one raised an eyebrow, "England?" I ignored how warm his voice made me feel and nodded. He seemed to shake out of his surprise and nodded to his own badge, "France. _His_ Majesties Musketeers."

I raised an eyebrow as I stepped forward, holding my badge out so he could see it, "Musketeers? Both of you."

He nodded, "Yes. I can see the badge now. So, are you going to untie us or just stare?" There was an innuendo in that, and the proof was in his eyes. Again, I was hit the strong feeling that I knew him, and he'd done that sort of thing to me before.

I rolled my dark blue eyes and shook my head, my short black hair with blue tips brushing my face. The headache came back fiercer, reminding me it was there, and I fought back a wince.

"So, special agent or just normal, run of the mill, agent?" The man asked as I began to saw through his silent companions ropes. His silent companion had not shaken out of his stupor, and was still staring at me with surprise.

"Special forces." I replied easily, catching the injured one before he slumped off the chair. The man cried out in pain as I jostled his injured arm and I winced in sympathy, slowly lowering him to the floor so he could lean against the chair.

The uninjured one raised an eyebrow at me, "Special Forces? Care to elaborate?"

I grinned, sawing through his ropes as I replied, "Have you heard about the Horsemen Taskforce?"

The man froze, and his companion stiffened. "You mean the one where four incredibly trained, incredibly dangerous, very lethal, deadly people reside? That Horsemen Taskforce." The man said carefully as his ropes fell away. But he didn't seem afraid of me, more as if he had just figured out something important.

He stood and turned, inching towards his companion. I shrugged, "When you put it that way, you make us sound as if we don't slide around in our socks eating biscuits, or we murder bunnies or something. But yes, that taskforce is mine. Granted, Conquest is the one that bosses us around most of the time, since he's the one the superiors trust more than the rest of us."

The man bent slowly to get his companion and I scoffed, "Will you relax? I'm not going to kill you. A) That would probably start a war between the Musketeers and the Horsemen, and we really don't want unnecessary deaths," The glint in my eye could be seen as threatening, but the man frowned at me, a look in his eyes that almost made me pause, "And B) I have no interest in doing so. I mean, had I wanted to, or if I was that sadistic, don't you think you'd already be dead by now? Oh!" They both jumped, and the injured one hissed in pain, "I forgot my manners." I gave them a dramatic bow, "Angel Strange, more commonly known as Rogue to my friends, at your service."

The uninjured one looked at me strangely, and there was something akin to affection in his gaze, but nodded to me anyway, "Rene De'Herbley, more commonly known as Aramis to my friends, Rogue." The way he said 'Aramis' was as if he expected me to know what he was talking about. The name did ring a bell, but I didn't really remember it.

The other one gave me a half wave, a wary look still in his eyes, "Charles D'artagnan." He did the same thing as the other one did!

I allowed a smile to grace my features, trying to hide my growing concern and confusion, "Pleasure is all mine then."

A thump broke us out of our introductions, and I turned to look at the door. A different door past the one we were facing had just slammed open.

I shoved all the confusing thoughts to the wind and stepped forward, putting my finger to my lips and approached the door steadily.

I pressed against the wall as Rene and Charles slowly crept out of the light, and into the more shadowy corners of the room.

I drew up to my full height, 6'2, and waited with baited breath.

The door swung open, and the moment someone stepped forward, I was already sending them to the floor.

The man hit the ground and stared up at me in shock, not even reaching for the weapon at his side.

I swung my knife at him, well aware of the very big companion behind him who was also staring at me with shock, but something in the back of my mind whispered that this man with icy blue eyes was not my enemy.

I forced myself to stop mid swing, almost falling over with my built up momentum, and instead, staggered backwards, almost skewering myself in the process.

I pressed a hand to the wall to steady myself and Rene and Charles rushed towards the two people.

"Athos! Porthos! Thank goodness you got here!" Rene crowed, and my mind rang with how familiar that sounded.

I sheathed my black knife and curled an arm protectively over my ribs, watching with an aching heart as the four embraced. I don't know why my heart was threatening to pound out of my chest, but I wasn't entirely okay with the sensation.

But something in me screamed that they should be hugging me too, clapping me on the back and the like.

But that was wrong. Wasn't it? I didn't know them.

I decided that I was just wishing for my three brothers, and let the matter settle, even if my heart hurt at the thought of leaving these four people.

Once they were finished, the two others, Athos and Porthos (And why did my heart pound again when I thought of those names?) turned to me and I gave them a little wave, painfully aware of the bright red blood staining my fingers.

"Angel Strange, Horseman of Death, pleasure to meet you." I greeted flatly, still trying to sort through my emotions. I was a trained assassin for heaven's sakes!

The blue eyed one, who I assumed was Athos, stepped forward quickly. I almost flinched away from him, but before I could move, I found myself slumping forward. Athos caught me before I could fall and kept his steadying hands on my shoulders.

His icy eyes searched mine, and he was so familiar it hurt.

A small smile curved his lips, and he nodded to me, recognition and warmth in his gaze.

"Pleasure to meet you as well. Athos De La Fare." He offered. And he, much like Rene and Charles, said his first name as if he expected me to know. "The giant behind me is Porthos Du Vallon." Same with his first name.

I nodded jerkily to the giant, who smiled kindly at me, his eyes mirroring the affection the other three had sent my way.

"Now, as much fun as this is," Rene stated, "Might I suggest leaving? We have two injured people with us, and I'd like to get away so I could examine both of them."

Athos nodded, all traces of affection vanishing behind an indifferent mask. He ducked underneath one of my arm and pulled me to his side, ignoring the blood I was getting on his clothes. Nevermind mine.

I mentally bemoaned the fact that I'd have to get a new leather jacket. I liked this one! My band shirt was already torn and hanging off of my lean frame, but that was easily replaced.

We staggered out of the room, and I saw a lot of bodies decorating the halls.

"You know, if I didn't know better," I drawled, slumped against Athos, "I'd say that you two could be Horsemen with as much carnage that you left behind."

Porthos snorted a laugh, striding past all the bodies. "They took 'Mis and D'art. We take care of our family." My heart thudded painfully at that, and I vaguely wondered if I had lost more blood than I originally thought.

My head was starting to pound, but I could remember that my things were still somewhere in the compound.

"My weapons." I slurred, trying to detach myself from Athos.

Athos huffed and his blue eyes rolled in annoyance, "Are they really more important than your life?"

"My father gave me my gun." I spat back, "And he's dead. So I'd really like to get it back."

Athos seemed to deflate, and I noticed the other three staring at me.

Then Athos nodded, and began walking again, "Very well. We passed a weapons room on our way here. I'd say your weapons would be there."


	3. Chapter 3

Porthos had led us the aforementioned weapons room and Athos propped me up on a table that held the stolen weapons, before walking away to talk to the other four.

I was alright with it, they were obviously close, so I wouldn't want to intrude anyway. Even if some part of me whispered that I wouldn't be intruding.

Instead I busied myself in locating all my weapons.

I found my thigh holster, with my father's gift to me still safely inside. The engraved black 9mm still gleaming and perfectly safe, complete with the R signature on the bottom.

I attached that back to my leg and began putting all my knives back into their places in my boots and one hanging on my belt.

I slung the harness for my other gun over my shoulder instead of putting it on, not really wanting to lift my arm that much, and checked the gleaming silver weapon.

I found my ammunition and quickly loaded my black gun and the silver backup.

Then, my bracers were next. Perhaps an old fashioned thing, but it held small bombs, so I wasn't complaining. Plus, they felt unbelievably right on my arms. So I grabbed them and quickly checked them, making sure all the charges were still there, before strapping the worn leather back to my arms.

When I was finished, my head pounded uncomfortably, and all I wanted right now was to fall into bed.

I looked back to find my four companions still discussing something in low tones.

So I turned again and began hunting for my mobile.

After searching through the table I was leaning against, I found something that resembled my phone.

A very crushed version of my phone.

I sighed, mentally moaning about getting it replaced, before throwing it back into the table and slamming the drawer a bit harder than perhaps was necessary.

"Did that drawer do something to you to gain your anger?" A teasing voice asked behind me.

I snapped around, probably a lot faster than I should have been moving at this point, to find Rene behind me.

He held up his hand, "Easy. My apologies for frightening you."

I waved my hand, taking a deep breath. "No need. I've been on edge. Not your fault." Well, technically my distraction _was_ his fault, since he made my heart race every time he looked at me, but there was no need for the Musketeer to know I was behaving like a schoolgirl with a crush.

He smiled at me, and my heart stuttered. I felt as if I couldn't get enough air, and I was suddenly hit with the urge to kiss the smile off his face.

I leaned back a bit, scrambling to get my emotions under control. What was wrong with me?

Then Porthos, who had been looking out the door, called out, "Oy! We got people incoming." The timbre of his voice was familiar, just like every damn thing about all of them. "We'd best get out of here, quickly if possible."

I pushed off of the table, intent on walking on my own, and waved off Rene when he reached for me. I plastered a smile on my face, "I'm fine. No need, just go on with them."

He gave me a doubtful look, and opened his mouth to argue more, but gunshots broke him out of it.

I looked up as Rene flinched to see Porthos half out the door with a glock in his hand, firing at someone.

"Come on!" He barked.

Athos nodded, hoisting Charles to his feet and glancing at me.

"Help Athos with Charles." I commanded, already striding forward.

Rene sighed, but I could hear him going towards Charles.

I walked up to Porthos and detached a smoke bomb from my bracers.

I clicked it on, and as smoke began to pour out of the small opening, and I threw it past Porthos and into the hallway.

The smoke erupted and covered that end of the hallway, so I dived out, gun in my hand, and covered the others as they staggered out.

No one was blindly shooting out of the smoke, so that was nice.

Once everyone was out of the room, I raced after them.

M

 _Same area, but D'artagnan's POV:_

After Athos set Rogue on a table and walked over to us, we spent a moment just staring at each other. We'd finally found Rogue!

I felt giddy, and very, very relieved. Constance would be overjoyed. She, like Treville, had carried her memory through life, and she was always asking if we knew where Rogue was. She missed her friend as much as we did.

We had tossed around the idea that she'd be in the Horseman taskforce, but Aramis said it would be too easy. And even if we had, there wasn't a chance that we would've been able to meet Rogue anyway.

I looked at each of my brothers in turn. Porthos was beaming broadly, looking ready to laugh. Athos was happy as well, though he was showing his leader face right now, but I had seen how happy he was when he first saw Rogue.

And Aramis….

He looked like a lovestruck teen. There was happiness in his eyes, and even though he was probably more injured than he was letting on, he was bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had been the one who had looked at every angle for Rogue, and I knew there was an extra room in his house for her.

Athos looked around our small circle, then got down to business, "How injured are the pair of you?"

Aramis stopped bouncing for a moment and looked over at me with a glint in his eyes. "I'd like for D'artagnan to rest right now, and he's lost a lot of blood. But, there isn't much I can do right now. As for myself," The lovestruck look was back on his face, "I couldn't be better."

Athos sighed, but his eyes were fond. "Don't overwhelm her, understood? She doesn't remember us, so forcing ourselves on top of her will not help us."

Aramis nodded seriously, "Of course. I'll just have to be suave. It's like attempting to catch her attention all over again." I rolled my eyes at that, and he elbowed me.

"Wait, Athos." Porthos piped up, "Are you sure she doesn't remember us? She coulda killed you, but she stopped at the last second. There has to be some recognition in there."

I nodded, "Yeah. When she untied us, she looked as if she was confused by us." I tilted my head, "She actually looked conflicted. One moment she'd look fond, the next, confused. It's like she's trying to remember, but she doesn't know how."

Aramis nodded, "I agree with D'art. I saw a least a little bit of recognition from her when she looked at me." He smiled fondly, "She's still our girl."

Athos looked heavenward, "Are you sure you three aren't biased?" He asked, "You might have imagined it."

Aramis frowned, shaking his head, "No. I know what I saw, Athos. She knows us, she just can't remember from where."

"Treville said he wasn't sure what injury killed her," I added, choking only a bit at the word 'killed'. "So it's possible that if it was a collection of injuries, she could have gotten hit there again. It could be that her memories are coming back, but she just hasn't had her fatal hit yet."

"Good point, D'art." Aramis nodded to me, "However, I will have to argue over giving her a fatal hit. As much as I'd love for her to remember us, there are places I'm not willing to go."

Athos nodded sagely as Porthos stepped away to look out the door, "Exactly. So we'll keep an eye on her, perhaps we can persuade her to remain in Paris for a week or so. If we become people she views as friends, like I did with Porthos, and Porthos did for Aramis, then we'll be nearby if something does happen to her."

Aramis nodded, smiling happily. "Sounds brilliant. I'm going to go woe her." He stepped away quicker than Athos could call him back, and I smiled, shaking my head.

"Are you alright, D'artagnan?" Athos asked, studying me.

I gave him a small smile, "Of course. The bullet went through cleanly, so we needn't worry too much about it."

He shook his head, stepping forward and unbuttoning his leather jacket. He tore the bottom edge of his shirt and tied the strip of cloth tightly around my arm. I bit back a cry of pain and he smiled apologetically at me.

Then Porthos called out that there were people coming quickly, before firing a few rounds out the door.

Athos pulled me to him and slung one of my arms over his shoulders, supporting me. I looked over at Aramis and Rogue to see her waving Aramis off with a smile, then nodding to me.

Aramis wasn't happy, but he walked over to me as Rogue stepped up beside Porthos.

She brought something out and did something to it, and smoke began to pour out.

Aramis smiled fondly again as he helped me move forward, "Yep. She's still our Rogue."


	4. Chapter 4

I staggered into the daylight to see trees, and the smell of mountain air surrounded me.

There was a few vehicles around us, and I noticed that the 'super villain compound' was an old warehouse.

I could hear a river somewhere, so we couldn't be that far away.

There was a problem though; last I knew, I wasn't anywhere near a fresh water source when I had been Rogue-napped.

"Come on then!" Porthos shouted at me as the four of them descended the steps, heading to a few parked cars.

I heard something rushing towards us from the other side of the door, so I threw my weight against it just as it began to open. The door slammed shut again and I braced myself against it.

"Start the car! I'll jump in after!" I shouted after them.

Porthos apparently didn't believe me, and bounded back up the steps before throwing his heavy bulk against the door as well.

"Find something to block it!" He barked.

I nodded, turning and looked for anything to brace against the door.

Then gunshots rang out and Porthos cried out in pain, I whipped back around again to see a blood stain blooming on his torso, beneath his big black leather jacket. Did all of us like leather?

I ran forward, thoroughly fed up with these morons who thought they could just shoot my friends.

My friends? Eh, might as well. Nothing like getting kidnapped and attacked together.

I grabbed a different bomb from my boot and twirled it in my hands; it could potentially bring the house down, but at this point, I really didn't care. Porthos had been shot, Rene and Charles were injured, and my temper was shot. So screw it!

I heard a car start behind us, and Rene shouted out, "Come on!"

I held up the bomb for Porthos to see and said, "Open the door, then slam it again. I'll throw a smoke bomb and this one, it'll be enough to make them back off."

He considered me for a moment as more gunshots rang out and peppered the door, the blood spot on his side growing bigger, then nodded.

He open the door quickly, and I tossed both bombs inside. He slammed it shut again and held it. White smoke seeped through the holes in the door, and I grabbed Porthos' arm, slinging it over my shoulder and forcing him down the steps.

Once we reached the bottom, a small explosion rocked the ground and I nearly fell over because of it and Porthos' weight.

He staggered, and I fought to keep my feet. My head was now trying to kill me, and I knew we were leaving a blood trail.

A car pulled up in front of us and the backdoor swung open thanks to Charles, who was climbing further into the back of the vehicle. The silver SUV didn't look like it belonged here, but I wasn't complaining.

I began to shove Porthos inside just as I heard a shout of outrage.

I turned to look as best I could with Porthos' arm still around my shoulders to see a shooter behind the van, aiming at Porthos' unprotected side.

With a burst of strength, I threw Porthos headfirst into the vehicle, reaching for my own weapon just as the shooter discharged his.

I felt it tear through the side of my chest as I aimed my own gun at him. I almost faltered, but managed to get a shot out. Blood seeped from his forehead as he fell and I felt an hand close around my arm, yanking me inside.

The car was tearing out of the driveway before the door even got closed, and I found myself staring up at Rene's worried face through a haze.

"Weren't yu in front sit?" I slurred.

A burst of pain on my chest woke me up, and I bit back a scream.

"Sorry! But I need to put pressure on this." Rene said, worry clouding his vision and something akin to fear.

I coughed, feeling something wet and warm hit my lips and smiled grimly at him. "I've had worse. Don worry."

He scowled, and his face was heart wrenchingly familiar.

I frowned as he continued to push on me, and fought back the growing darkness to study him.

Something in my head clicked, the headache fading slightly as images and memories that I certainly didn't have before invaded my mind.

"'Mis." I slurred.

His eyes widened and he looked down at me, "Rogue?"

I grinned a bloody grin, "One and only. Unless yu no another one."

"Aramis!" Athos called from the front seat, "The nearest hospital is 20 minutes away. Will she make it there?"

I tried to scowl, slightly offended. "Course I will, grumpy man." I muttered.

Aramis shot me a slightly broken smile and looked back up, "I think so. If she stays awake."

"Stay awake then, Rogue." Athos barked.

I frowned, my headache coming back and making remembering harder. I knew the man my head was pillowed on. Vaguely. He was Aramis. Friend, and something more…..? But everything was slowly slipping away, and it was annoying. I wanted to remember.

"Don't think I told you my name." I murmured with a frown, the black encroaching my vision getting thicker and harder to ignore.

Aramis frowned above me, leaning forward, "What did you say, Rogue? I couldn't hear you."

I tried to answer him, but found that my lips didn't want to move, so all that came out was an unintelligent noise.

"Rogue?" He panic was coming back tenfold, "Rogue!" I knew he was yelling by the look on his face, but I could barely hear him.

He looked up at Athos and shouted something, pushing harder on my injury, sending rivets of flame through me.

I vaguely heard D'artagnan shouting something about Porthos, maybe that Porthos need medical too? But at that point, I closed my eyes as darkness swept me away.


	5. Chapter 5

_No one's POV. A hospital:_

Aramis paced the hallway in the hospital, just outside of the ER, while Athos reclined in an uncomfortable chair with a hat pulled over his eyes. To anyone who saw the pair of them, they looked like two steampunk people. Aramis with his black duster, and Athos with his 'pirate' style hat much like the one he owned before he died and riding boots.

Aramis had washed the blood off his hands, but there were still some stains on his once white shirt as well as his faded blue jeans.

Athos had blood stains on the leather jacket sitting in the chair beside him, and he knew he'd have to get it replaced eventually.

Currently, all three of the injured were still in surgery, and the two remaining for about to drive themselves mad.

Correction. _Aramis_ was about to drive himself _and_ Athos mad. Athos was considering shooting his friend in the leg to stop him from pacing, but had been quick to dismiss the idea. Although the idea was becoming more and more tempting the more time went on.

Just as Athos was prepared to deal with the consequences, a shout rang from the other end of the hall.

Both of them stopped what they were doing (i.e. Aramis stopped pacing and Athos sat up and stopped contemplating serious injury to a brother) and looked to see who had shouted.

Who greeted them was Treville and Constance. Athos had called them both when Aramis himself was getting checked over by a few exasperated nurses. Athos had been brief, and hadn't told either of them about Rogue just yet.

Aramis embraced Constance while Athos clasped his hand with his Captain's, holding for a few seconds before letting go.

"How are they?" Treville asked.

Aramis shrugged helplessly, "We don't know. D'artagnan should've been out by now, but no one has come to collect us. Porthos might have a more extensive surgery. And Rogue was injured badly."

Both Treville and Constance froze.

"Rogue?" Treville asked carefully.

Aramis gave Athos a flat look, "You didn't tell them?"

"I wanted to tell them in person." He replied stiffly.

"What are you two talking about?" Constance asked, moving forward so she was between the two of them.

Aramis took a deep breath and gave her a small, worried smile. "Rogue was kidnapped along with D'artagnan and I. She's actually the one who got us out before Athos and Porthos happened along. She doesn't remember us fully, but after she was shot again because she took a shot I'm assuming was meant for Porthos, she recognized me briefly before she passed out en route to the hospital."

Constance gasped, torn between being overjoyed that Rogue was back with them, and being worried about her survival.

"Oh, Aramis." She settled for hugging her worried friend, and held him tightly as he curled himself around her.

Treville and Athos shared a look, and Athos nodded solemnly.

M

 _An hour later:_

A female doctor came into the ER with a clipboard in her hands and looked down at it briefly before calling out, "Mr. La Fere?"

Athos stood up, and his three companions followed him.

The doctor looked over them, then turned to Athos.

"I'm Doctor Emily Shade, and I've been sent to speak with you for three patients. One of which I operated on myself. As you requested, Mr. Du Vallon and Mr. D'artagnan were placed in the same room. Mr. Du Vallon had a bullet lodged in his ribs, and was very close to puncturing a lung. He has several broken and cracked ribs, and will have difficulty breathing for a week or so, but he'll survive." A collective sigh of relief fell around them as the doctor continued, "Mr. D'artagnan will be wearing a sling for a few weeks, but his arm with recover nicely. He also had a major concussion, and with the two injuries combined we'd like to keep him under observation for a minimum of three days."

She paused and looked up at all of them, "And as for Ms. Strange." She sighed, "The damage was severe. She had several broken ribs, one of which punctured her lung due to the bullet that ricocheted in her ribcage. However, we were able to close it and get her on a breathing machine to reduce some of the pressure." Aramis ran an anxious hand through his hair and the doctor continued, "She had numerous stab wounds all over her body, all of which we sealed. She had a fractured collarbone and a severally sprained shoulder."

At this point, Aramis was ready to force his way to her, but the Doctor continued. "But, even with all of her injuries, she's still holding on and fighting. So I'm hopeful she'll pull through. She isn't out of the water yet though, and has been put into an induced coma for the time being until we can remove the breathing tube."

"Can we see them?" Aramis asked once the Doctor stopped talking.

"Well, Mr. D'artagnan should be awake within an hour, so you can go sit with him if you'd like and wait. I imagine you'll have company soon after." She gave them a wry smile, "Based on his record of waking up before he's supposed to. So it would be beneficial if someone were to be with him during that time."

"I can." Constance instantly volunteered, to the surprise of no one. After her ex-husband finally accepted the divorce papers Constance had shoved down his throat, she and D'artagnan and been going steady.

The doctor nodded and continued, "Mr. Du Vallon will not be awake until tomorrow at the most, however you can still sit with him if you like. I've found that having someone they know and trust with them improves their health and speeds recovery along."

"And Ms. Strange?" Treville prompted.

The doctor readjusted her glasses, "As I've said, she will be on a machine for the next few days. However, one of you can still go in and sit with her. I'd like to only have one in the room if possible, to prevent any added stress a lot of you could bring."

Aramis jumped on the chance, already gathering the duster he had shed earlier.

The doctor stopped him though by holding up a hand, "However I would like to know if you knew about her….. more severe injuries that she had acquired sometime in the past."

Treville pinned her with a look, "What kind of injuries?"

The doctor sighed, "I've pulled up her record, and there isn't much there, which is to be accepted with an agent like her. But, there are whiplashes on her back. 9 from my count. They are old, and barely scarred, which implies that she acquired them several years ago, 5 at the least. I'm aware she is an agent, thanks to the badge that we have placed on her desk, but the database refused to allow me her medical records. I've alerted her superior, and he's given me the rightaway to do what I saw fit in means of her health as long as she survived. He's also asked me to thank you all for bringing her in and finding her. He gave me his contact information to pass along to you so you can be made aware of anything pressing."

She handed a piece of paper with a number and a name on it to Athos, and he took with a nod.

"Now, Mr. Du Vallon and Mr. D'artagnan are in room number 210, and Ms. Strange is in a solitary recovery room in room 325. I've got other patients to attend to; but, if you have any questions, flag down a nurse and ask for me. I'll try to answer any I can, but I am busy at the moment. It seems everyone had to get injured today." She noted wryly, before she left in a flurry of sterile smell.

"What's the name of her superior?" Aramis asked curiously as they walked through the hospital to an elevator.

"Eric Harte." Athos replied with a small smirk, "The Horseman of Conquest. I'll talk to him, see if he remembers. It seems that Rogue found her other three brothers first."

"History does repeat itself." Constance commented wryly.

"If that is so, than perhaps it shall repeat again, and she'll become a Musketeer again." Treville said.

"One can hope." Aramis chirped, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

 **I just want to note, I am not a doctor. I know basic first aid and CPR, that's it.**

 **Other than that disclaimer, what do you guys think so far?**

 **ST**


	6. Chapter 6

_Aramis' POV:_

I waited, tapping my foot impatiently, for Athos to arrive.

I was outside Rogue's room; a place that I hadn't really left for four days.

D'artagnan and Porthos already woke up, and Constance was ready to kill D'artagnan because of his numerous escape attempts. Porthos was being a slightly better patient according to Athos, but we couldn't leave the two of them alone for long, or we'd have a mutiny on our hands. Porthos, unfortunately, was still under the weather, and wasn't healing as quickly as I would have liked. That did not stop him nor D'artagnan from attempting escape.

While my brother and Constance had their hands full with D'artagnan and Porthos (Treville had had to return to the agency), I didn't have any trouble with Rouge. She had stayed asleep, and the doctors were going to remove her breathing tube today and take her off the medication keeping her under. I'd wanted to do it for two days now, eager to see her blue eyes again.

Athos had called Harte, and had found that Harte had had his memory for a long time after he got shot as a teenager and nearly died. The jolly green giant (I was fond recalling Rogue's old nickname for Joshua) also remembered, but Diego did not yet, though it was probably only a matter of time.

Harte also said that all three of them would be down soon to see their youngest member, who apparently was only 21 (I was 25, so I didn't have a problem at all), soon. And I was looking forward to bickering with Eric again, if he was the same anyway.

"Aramis." Athos greeted from down the hall, and I turned to him.

"Took you long enough." I grumbled.

He rolled his eyes fondly at me, "I'm sure you can spare a few minutes away from your girlfriend's bedside. She isn't supposed to wake until tomorrow, and that's only after the doctors get around to her room."

I huffed, but let him speak.

"D'artagnan is being discharged as we speak, I came to get you so you could look him over once more to make certain he is fit enough to leave the hospital. Porthos also hinted that he would love being discharged today as well." Athos informed me, his blue eyes smirking even if his lips didn't so much as twitch.

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "Of course he would. Alright, we can go now."

But before I could take a step, a sudden gasp from Rogue's room had me spinning around, leaping into the room with Athos tight on my heels.

I nearly froze when wild blue eyes caught mine as Rogue struggled in the bed, choking on the breathing tube.

M

 _Rogue's POV:_

I didn't know where I was. The last thing I remembered was telling Treville about the sky as I bled out.

No. That was wrong. Last thing I remembered was looking up at Aramis.

Memories old and new collided, and it was confusing sorting through all of it. But I knew that it would help if I woke up.

I could feel medication in my veins, and some part of me whispered what it was.

I opened my eyes and tried to draw in a breath, only to find something in my throat. My body burned, and my lungs and throat ached. I surged upwards, gasping and choking on the tube.

I vaguely saw Aramis coming towards me with Athos, and both of them were wearing odd clothing.

No. They were wearing normal clothing….. Weren't they?

The burning took center stage and I tried to bring my hands up, but found that I was tangled in bedsheets and wires.

I turned a pleading gaze towards Aramis; he could help me, right?

A loud beeping noise sounded and I flinched away from it, making several injuries cry out in renewed pain, and I nearly fell off the bed I was on.

Aramis lunged forward, grabbing my shoulders.

"Rogue! Calm down! I'm going to take it out, but I need you to relax!" He shouted, brown eyes wide and worried.

Athos grabbed my shoulders from behind me as I struggled. My lungs burned, and I was making a pitiful choked off noise. I realized belatedly that tears were streaming down my face, but I couldn't really help it. It _burned_.

Then suddenly whatever was in my throat was being removed, and then completely leaving.

I sucked in huge gasps of air, not even caring at the pain it caused in my ribcage, and shook in Athos' arms. My hand found Aramis' and I held it tightly, trying to get my heartbeat under control and to breathe regularly.

After a few minutes of this, more people rushed into the room and I tensed, preparing to leap to my feet.

Athos tightened his grip on me and Aramis held up a hand to stop the flood of people. _Nurses._ My head pounded uncomfortably, and I knew it was because of the different memories banging around in my head.

"Wait. Just let us calm her down." Aramis pleaded, hand tightening on mine.

"Do you really know her?" Demanded one of the people, the doctor.

I glared, getting my breathing under control.

"Of course he does." I spat once I was able, surprising everyone in the room. "I know both of them. This," I threw a weak hand behind me to Athos, almost smacking him in the face, "Is Athos. I have the best verbal spars with him."

Then I picked up Aramis' hand. Even with my memories playing with jackhammers in my head, I knew for certain who he was. "And this, is Aramis. My boyfriend." I told them almost smugly, ignoring the two shocked looks I was receiving. "And approaching me with a needle with not be beneficial to your health. Because even if you strap me down," I bared my teeth, complete with the slightly longer fangs and all, "I bite."

My heartbeat was slowly returning to normal, and my old and new memories had begun to fuse together.

The nurses took a collective step back, as if abandoning the doctor with me, and Aramis shot the exasperated woman a smile that was way too relieved, "I'm a doctor, madame. I can check her over."

The doctor looked between all of us, "I'm well aware you're a doctor, a damn good one, but I don't feel comfortable-"

"I don't feel comfortable with someone still brandishing a needle at me." I spat, "And I don't know you."

"You aren't in your clear mind due to the medication." The doctor tried.

I huffed, giving her a condescending smile, "I've never been clearer. And you clearly aren't in your right mind if you insist on coming closer to me with a needle that I don't have any doubts will knock me out until I become more 'manageable'."

She glared at me, then huffed, turning out the door and ushering the nurses out.

Aramis turned to look at me as the door swung closed, relief and hope a mixture in his gaze as he looked at me, and I could feel the rumble of laughter in Athos' chest as he held me.

I turned between the two of them, between Aramis' relieved look to Athos' uncharacteristically broad smile, and made a face. "What? Honestly, my memories might still be waging World War 3 in my head, but I do remember being difficult with any doctor who wasn't Aramis."

Athos gave me a gentle squeeze where his arms trapped me against him, "Sometimes even with Aramis himself." His breath stirred my hair and I chuckled, wincing slightly when my ribs protested.

Aramis fell to his knees, holding my hand tightly before bringing it to his lips and giving my knuckles a gentle kiss.

"What do you mean, 'sometimes'?" He asked, voice shaking with relief, "I recall it being all the time."

Athos chuckled, then spoke again, "Aramis. Take your girlfriend, please. I'll need to tell everyone else our resident renegade is awake."

Aramis leapt to his feet quickly, and sat on the edge of the bed, taking me from Athos' arms.

I frowned, "That's right. I did basically claim you just then, didn't I?"

Aramis laughed, getting me settled against his chest before he kissed my cheek, "I don't mind."

"Of course you don't." Athos commented fondly, standing up and pressing a chaste kiss onto my forehead. "I'll be back as soon as I can with the others."

Athos walked out, and worry clouded my mind. "Are the others okay?" I asked Aramis.

His arms tightened around me and he responded, "Of course. You were the one we were worried about. Do you remember everything?" He sounded hesitant, worried.

I tilted my head, leaning more into him, "Somewhat. They're still coming back. But I remember all of you. Treville, Constance, D'art, Porthos, Athos… You."

His buried his face in the crook of my neck. "I was worried you wouldn't remember… us."

"How could I remember everything else but not us?" I asked him quietly. "Also, I have to ask. Is the headache thing gonna stay for a while, until I get all of my memories back? Because this thing is not fun."

He laughed, a happy, relieved sound. "Mine stayed until I got all of my memories back, but Porthos' didn't, and he remembered everything. So I suppose it depends on the person."

"Joy." I drawled sarcastically. I felt exhausted now, and I hated it. I wanted to hurry up and remember everything, I want to see Porthos and D'art, and I didn't want to go back to sleep. Then I realized something.

"Aramis?" I asked, already feeling my cheeks heat up. "Am I wearing nothing but a hospital gown?"

"Hmm. Let me check." His tone was teasing, and devious. I could feel his start to pull away, and I grabbed both his arms, yanking him forward so he couldn't back up.

That enticed a laugh out of him and I hissed through the pain, "I'm being serious!"

"So am I!" He shouted back through a laugh.

I huffed, rolling my eyes and ignoring the way it didn't help my headache. "Some help you are." I muttered.

"If you let me stand up, I will wrap my duster around you." He offered. "We don't have any clothes for you, as your other ones were covered in blood and dust. So if you'll settle for the gown and my duster for now, I can bring you some of my clothes."

I considered his offer, and he added almost coyly, "It isn't as if I haven't seen your back before."

I elbowed him in the gut, "Why am I having this conversation with you?"

"Because you can't resist."

I elbowed him again and he laughed, "You certainly have the same fire." Then he pulled away, but slid to the side instead of going back. He held my shoulders until he was certain I could sit up on my own (Which was debatable, but I was on pain killers, so I was more or less okay), then he swung his long duster off of his shoulders.

He was still the same height as I was, so his duster would fit me if I stood up. He held it out to me, and I took in his appearance quickly before taking his duster.

He was still the same build, same lean muscles and tussled hair. He was still Aramis.

I took the duster from him and shifted as much as I could, swinging the duster over my shoulders and wrapping it around me.

He watched me with his hands resting on his hips, white sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He raised a mocking eyebrow at me, "Better?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes, and he beamed happily at me. My heart skipped a beat at the smile, and I smiled back at him. "Yes, good sir. I do believe I am." I replied instead of snarking at him.

Despite the memories playing tug-o-war in my head, I was relieved to know that Aramis was still the same, and he was still mine.

I had never really had any interest in anyone else romantically, and had begun to wonder if I could fall in love. But I realized now that, doubtless because of my upbringing, I had remembered traces of my old life, and those traces were enough to ward me off of anyone else. Based on the way he acted, I assumed it was safe to guess that he didn't have anyone either.

Thankfully. Otherwise it might've gotten messy.


	7. Chapter 7

Aramis had moved back into the small bed with me and had pushed and prodded me (Just like he used to) until I was pressed against his side, with him partially curled around me, his long legs spilling off the side of the bed.

Athos had been gone for about 5 minutes, so we had time to talk, just the two of us, for a bit. Or so said Aramis.

"You realize that actual doctor will have to give me a checkup, right?" I asked him after a moment of comfortable silence.

His arm tightened around me, "I know. But I am a legal doctor."

"So you aren't working with the others?"

"I am, but that doesn't mean my doctorate is nothing just because I'm a Musketeer." He replied fondly. "Also, the moment you are out of here, I've already got a room set up for you at my house. Not that you'll need the extra bed."

I snickered, "Aramis, I do have an apartment in London. And a legal team there, not just a bunch of vigilantes running around causing trouble. I can't just drop everything to go running to all of you."

"Why not?" He whined. "You're a Musketeer, Rogue."

I smiled in amusement, "And I thought you were an adult." I teased lightly, before sobering, "At any rate, it isn't in my profile to just up and leave without a good explanation. And no, going up to my boss and saying that I wasn't only born in this century, and instead was one of the original Musketeers and as such have to quit to rejoin their reincarnations, is not a good reason. He'd think I was insane, and would have me institutionalized. But, I do have a lot of downtime between cases, so I could come and go from Paris." I mused.

"What do you mean, a lot of downtime between cases?" Aramis asked curiously.

I shifted in his arms, "Well, The Horsemen are usually only sent out on the extreme cases. Cases no one else can solve easily, since we have a notorious reputation for being difficult to kill. Most of the time, we go alone to each, unless it's something really big, or the others are just bored and want to tag along. Not standard protocol, but my boss doesn't really care. We do our jobs, and we do them well."

"Here I was thinking the Horsemen reputation was all made up." Aramis commented wryly.

I rolled my eyes, "Anyway, because we're only sent on major ones, and because we usually tackle them alone, we each have a lot of spare time. Also, not many people know we are the Horsemen. We see, but normally aren't seen." I smirked wickedly, "Plus, there is the whole thing about 'dead men tell no tales' and all."

Before I could continue, or Aramis could offer up a quip, a voice from the doorway had us both turning.

"Yep. She is _still_ as terrifying as she used to be." D'artagnan's stood in the doorway, wearing jeans, boots, and a t-shirt. Happy smile on his face and his arm curled in a sling against his chest.

Constance was beside him, arm curled in his uninjured one, and a broad smile set on her face, blue eyes bright and cheerful. But I could see that she was still as watchful as ever, clever hawk that she was.

"Bugger out of the doorway!" A growly voice commanded in mock anger, and, with a laugh, the couple moved out of the open door.

Porthos and Athos entered then. Porthos was dressed in a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt that was slightly too big waist-wise, toothy smile in place. He looked tired, and was favoring one side of himself.

Athos rolled his eyes at me, blue eyes practically glowing with happiness.

"Kit!" Porthos bellowed happily.

"Bear!" I cheered back, and his face got even happier.

Then Constance was hugging me tightly, almost too tightly, and I laughed, returning the hug as best I could.

"Nice to see you again, Constance." I told her.

She smacked my shoulder lightly as she pulled away, blue eyes bright and almost glassy, "Nice to see you too. But why did you have to be injured?"

I shot her a cheeky grin, "Because, even in this life I still have no sense of self-preservation."

"Something we still need to work on then." Athos commented wryly.

"Also, I agree with D'art." Porthos added.

D'artagnan shot me an impish grin, "You are still terrifying."

I bared my 'fangs' at him, then threw him a wink, "Don't you forget it. I am still the Horseman of Death. There's a reason for that."

The only response I got was him rolling his eyes at me and Constance lightly smacking my arm.

I huffed, but shot them both an easy going grin.

"And despite all that, you still manage to act like a child." Athos commented dryly.

I threw him a wink, "What's the fun in being a grown up if you can't act childish sometimes?"

"What indeed." He replied, a wry smirk on his face.

"Athos." Aramis suddenly whined, "Rogue said she isn't going to jump into a Musketeer position! I offered up my house and everything!"

I rolled my eyes again, amused by it all, but my companions stared at me.

"But, you're a Musketeer!" D'artagnan cried.

"See? I'm not the only one who says you belong with us." Aramis pointed out moodily.

I rolled my eyes, "As I've already explained to Aramis, I can't just stop being a Horseman without good reason to. We move as a whole. Before we were a part of the England unit, we were in America. We move as one, or not at all. And I have responsibilities, a case I'm currently working on, so I can't just leave all that unfinished. One, it would break the streak the other Horsemen and I have running of about 20 solved cases within the span of two months. And two, it would weigh too heavily on my conscience if I abandoned it now. Innocent people could get hurt if I do."

Before anyone else could say anything, Athos stepped forward, "What case were you working on before you got abducted?" He asked.

"A case involving the Spanish Mafia. They've been moving around Europe, and the only reason I know they're Spaniards is because of the amount of work I've done in the past two weeks." I replied easily. "I do have to give them props for hiding their trails so well; but there is a reason one of the Horseman were sent in. And apparently, even if I was abducted, I still found them." I tilted my head, "Actually, they found me first."

"You aren't talking about the morons who abducted all three of you, are you?" Porthos growled.

"Yep." I replied, popping the 'p'. "I was there for, oh, two days? Before these two popped up." I waved towards Aramis and D'art.

"How do you know they were the mafia?" Athos asked.

I gave him a flat look, "I've been following them for two weeks. I've memorized the files we already had on them, and pictures. So I knew who I was looking at the moment they showed their ugly mugs."

Aramis snickered, "And exactly how much time did you spend in America?"

I smirked, adopting my American accent, "Well, just about a year. And let me tell you, hailing cabs in New Jersey is a nightmare."

"That was… surprisingly good." D'art commented.

"Don't sound so surprised." I grumbled.

"Getting back to the mafia." Athos interjected smoothly, "There is a good chance that the same people we're after, are the people you're after."

"I was thinking that too. They questioned me about a letter. Does that mean anything to you guys?" I asked.

"It's a letter between a spy in the mafia to Treville." Athos replied, "This letter had information about the headquarters of the mafia. However, we believe the mafia didn't know what the letter stated. Hence why they abducted Aramis and D'artagnan."

"And they probably nabbed me because they realized I was following them." I mused. "I've been getting sloppy I suppose."

"Egads." Aramis drawled sarcastically.

I shot him a dirty look, then looked around. I realized then that the happy, warm feeling in my chest was not the medication. I had the rest of my family back, sans Treville, and I was happy.

"Now, can I break out of here?" I threw in with a smirk.

The others groaned at me, with Aramis saying a definite 'No, you're too injured' and Porthos shouting 'Hear! Hear!'. I laughed, leaning back further into Aramis' arms, and chose to forget my responsibility, if only for a little while.


End file.
